Tinderbox
by may flyer
Summary: With four of the Fire Nation's deadliest teenagers fighting a war behind enemy lines, it was only a matter of time until something exploded.
1. Chapter 1

**Tinderbox - Part One**

_Author's Note/Disclaimer_: Zuko's manly man-pain and other related trademarks belong to Nickelodeon. Jaunty screen-name and devil-may-care skirting of the grey areas of copyright law belong to me. But I make no profit. You know the drill!

This story takes place shortly after Bitter Work.

* * *

Ty Lee's laughter rang through the glade where they'd parked their tank. She was pointing at Mai, and clapping her hands - no small feat, considering that she turns hand-stands on a tree branch at the same time.

"_Honestly_, Mai," Azula surveyed her 'friend' critically. Her cupid's-bow lips curved into a smirk. Ready, aim, fire. "I can_not_ understand what you have to complain about. It's almost enough to make me think you have Air Nomad blood."

Azula's nose wrinkled in disgust. And understandably so! Everyone knew that the Air Nomads had been rootless savages, who tried to hold back technological progress with their 'non-materialist' philosophies. What kind of pathetic civilization couldn't understand conquest or innovation?

... a dead one, _obviously_.

"I didn't say I wanted to deprive myself of decent clothing. I could just... do without this in particular," Mai looked down at the Earth Kingdom robes that Azula had _so_ thoughtfully retrieved from the ranch they burned down two weeks ago, and scoffed. Scoffed! It was absolutely silly. Why, you'd think that Azula was asking Mai to wear her funeral robes! Ty Lee was so much more sensible about these things.

(Not that Azula herself would be caught dead in that hideous getup. Green was the color of vomit, of weakness, of leaves that _burned_. It was _far_ below the station of a Princess of the Fire Nation.)

"But Mai, it's so pretty!" Ty Lee beamed from her treetop. Had she stopped flipping around back there? It was so hard to tell. Azula had once been given a pet monkey for her birthday; she'd immolated it on grounds of redundancy. "You're a Capricorn, and your Venus is in the fourth house. So turn that frown upside-down, Mai! Transcendence of material ill will lead you to spherical harmony with the sun. I wrote a letter to my guru at home and she completely agreed."

"You are absolutely right, Ty Lee!" Azula cooed, strolling over to pinch Mai's cheek. Like one of those washed-up spinster chaperones that used to follow her around. "Mai is i>soooooooooo /i> cute! Just like a porcelain doll!"

"I can't fit many knives under this bodice," Mai complained.

"You'll do fine!" Azula said, with an inspirational slap on the back. Royalty shoul_be_ inspirational. All the better to make commoner peons quake in despair when they realized that they could never measure up to their ideals. "It's absolute necessity! Our quarry travels deeper and deeper into this wretched nation of mud-worshipping barbarians. We need supplies if we're going to carry on. Of course, we _should_ be able to drive into town and watch the dregs bow before their rightful ruler, but you know how tedious they can be about denying their betters."

Azula had confidence that Mai could secure what they needed. There were only two people on earth would could come even _close_ to equaling Azula's competence and pedigree, and those two people happened to be standing right beside her. Sure, Mai and Ty Lee they could never _be _Azula, but perfection could not be expected of everyone.

"Right," Mai pivoted, and began the long stalk towards town. The other two girls watched her go.

Ty Lee turned to Azula, concerned.

"Her biorhythms are really compressed."

"You're right. She's totally on the rag," Azula smirked. She made a sharp gesture, and the tree Mai was walking by burst into flame.

"Mai, Ty Lee thinks you're being cold! Such a shame. _Try_ to remember who you're dealing with, mmm? _Friends_ should get along." Azula called, smarmily.

Mai walked on.

A set of bushes at the edge of the clearing rustled. Once. Twice. Three times. A wholly unnatural pattern. But the Princess and her handmaiden could not hear it over the crackle of their brand-new bonfire.

* * *

Mai was not amused.

That was not, in and of itself, unusual. Mai was hardly ever amused. She had been exposed to the very best of food, clothing, art, and literature. Doting parents had ensured that her tastes were developed by the age of six, refined by the age of eight, and jaded by the age of ten. There were few pleasures in this world that she had not experienced. There were even fewer that she had not tired of.

Still. Mai was even less amused than usual.

"Excuse me," she said, dryly, to a gawking passer-by. This town was small and full of bumpkins. All towns were small and full of bumpkins. This was an infallible rule of frontier living. "Can you point me towards the nearest blacksmith?"

Why Azula had insisted Mai wear this fancy, attention-grabbing dress when she was supposed to be in disguise as an ordinary Earth Kingdom citizen? Mai did not know. It was probably a misguided attempt not to wound Mai's pride as a Fire Nation noblewoman. It was probably a sick joke.

Knowing Azula, it was probably both.

"Blacksmith, missy?" the bumpkin said, vacantly. He was staring at the lacquered sticks in Mai's hair. Lovely. She knew that the war must produce shortages, but she hoped that none of her own people ever had cause to be fascinated by something so inane.

"Yes. The blacksmith. Do you know where the blacksmith is?" Mai repeated the question slowly. This staring had to stop. It was… it was… ugh. The dress was made of light summer linen. Its sleeves were so tight that she could only carry half the usual number of concealed knives and darts. A draft crept up her skirt, in order to remind her that the sheer material permitted no weapons on her legs either.

Agni. Mai might as well be _naked._

"Over that way, tulip. You can't miss it. You tell him ol' Lin here sent ya, he'll set your brothers up right proper," The commoner sprouted a grin. He was missing teeth and his hands were caked with dirt. When Mai'd said she wanted to leave Omashu and find something interesting, people with no concept of hygiene weren't what she had in mind.

Mai shook her head, slowly. Lies were easiest to tell when they contained a grain of truth. That had been a part of her training.

"It's not for my brothers. It's for my master. Thank you."

The admirable thing about Azula was that - no matter how insufferable she could be about it - she was almost always right. The trio needed supplies. Azula, Mai, and Ty Lee were masters of their respective martial arts, but even they would be dead if they were caught this deep in Earth Kingdom territory. Ba Sing Se would not hesitate to send an entire platoon against them. It would be quite a coup to eliminate the only remaining heir to the Fire Throne.

So. Shopping in disguise it was. Azula couldn't be expected to do it because it would bring indignity to her station. Ty Lee couldn't be expected to it because she was Ty Lee.

It all came down to Mai.

Mai padded down the lane that the bumpkin had indicated, at a measured pace.

Said bumpkin leaned against a ramshackle stone fence, and watched her walk away. As soon as Mai was out of sight, he ducked into an alleyway, and followed.

* * *

The Earth Kingdom was true to its name. Here in the badlands, even the air was heavy with dust. Grit clogged his pores, and invaded the creases of his clothing. Some days it felt like the muck had thickened in his very blood.

It was an insidious way to implement a straightforward strategy: entomb and conquer. Uncle would call it evidence of the natural balance that existed even between the disparate elements so disparate as Earth and Air. Zuko called it grimy.

"Fine blades, son, but you've really banged them up. Are you here on leave? My cousin Bao says that fan warriors arrived to relieve the Green Watch last month."

"Mmm," Zuko inclined his head, keeping the brim of his hat low. Hard living at sea, and even harder living on the run, had aged the structure of his muscles and the texture of his skin. He looked too aged and too worn to fit in so far beyond the frontline.

Zuko needed to get this over with, and then get back to Uncle.

"You ever met one of those fan warriors? Under all that paint and armor, my cousin Bao says that they are mighty fine. I hear on Kyoshi…"

Zuko let the words wash over him, keeping his attention fixed on the broadswords that the blacksmith was repairing. Pointless chit-chat wasn't something that he could summon at will. No sparks of small-talk lurked under his skin, waiting to be bent into his father's little political miracles. It was one of his failings as a Prince.

"… and so I say to him, Bao, you are playing with an avalanche. Can you believe that he pinched…"

Fortunately, the blacksmith seemed more than content to recite months worth of news with minimal prompting. Most of his friends were gone at war. Zuko supposed it must be better than talking to the bottom of a beer mug, if it came to that. If you had to talk at all.

"…now, Fong down the road, she says that…."

In two years at sea, Zuko ran out of things to say. Silence had become a trusted companion. Maybe he'd grow to feel that way about filth as well.

Maybe.

Zuko could hear the sound of steps behind him. A shadow fell. He did not turn.

The babble stopped.

"Will you be long?" Asked a measured, female voice.

Zuko did not turn. Zuko did not turn. Zuko _would not turn_. Zuko was tensed for motion and ready for action. Zuko was locked in place.

"Ask the man with no name over there," the blacksmith said, kindly. He tilted the sword that he was working on, and the air was filled with a shower of sparks.

"Well?"

"No," Zuko said, curtly. He would not turn, he would not run, he would not draw suspicion with Uncle injured in a cave three miles from here and no weapons but the spark beneath the skin.

"I see. You use swords," Mai stood beside Zuko, but did not look at him. Azula's lackey wanted a standoff? So be it.

"I own swords." Zuko was noncomittal.

"... ah."

The silence thickened with tension; another old ally turned traitor. Even the blacksmith seemed to have caught on to the awkwardness. He'd stopped talking too.

"The sun is hot today," Mai referenced Zuko's firebending, obliquely. Zuko couldn't tell if she was at all affected by this little meeting.

"You could say that," Zuko replied. He hadn't known Azula'd brought her little friends with her. He hadn't anticipated that. And now look at him. One false move and he'd stick out in this town like a plume of magma. Soldiers from the last village were still looking for him, Uncle was not yet well enough for travel, and…

Damit it. Damn it all.

"I just did say that," Mai said. Her inflection was as deadpan as ever, but Zuko swore he could make out some sarcasm.

Zuko risked a quick glance at her, out of the corner of his eye. Uncle would tell him to evaluate the threat.

Sheer dress. Looked like an Earth Kingdom noblewoman. No physical cues that she was ready to draw weapon, but with a girl like Mai, that didn't mean a lot.

Zuko could think of thirteen different firebending moves that he could execute within five seconds of Mai making a wrong move. He kept his favorite in mind. She was just as wary as he was, if the slight curl of her fingertips was any consolation.

They were still as statuary, which mean that they might as well have had blades pointed at one another's throats.

"As you wish, Miss," said Zuko.

Come _on_. Why would the damn blacksmith not hurry up? A burly man like that should have no trouble hammering the dents out of Zuko's swords.

Mai could fire. Mai could fire and take out only one of Zuko's limbs, or puncture his lung. Mai could pull one of the pins out of her hair and impale Zuko's eye.

Zuko could throw himself at her right now, and overpower her with superior body mass, but that would look suspicious – it would _all _look suspicious.

"Thank you," Mai replied cautiously. "I'm here to replenish a store of knives for my friend in the army."

What was ithat/i supposed to mean? A threat? A coded message?

Zuko hated fighting battles that were only in his head. Battles should be taken to their proper, physical ground. Would Mai break first? Would he? She should be just as reluctant to pursue a confrontation here as Zuko. Female warriors were uncommon outside the Fire Nation. Azula wouldn't want to draw attention to her presence in or near this town.

What the hell was Azula playing at, pulling a stunt like this?

Zuko glowered into the distance. This was his life now. Someone he remembered as a twelve year-old who could never look him in the eye was now in striking distance of assassinating him. With the sun this high, it was as sweltering as Agni Kai.

Mai was still, apparently, reluctant to look him in the eye. That made two of them.

Slowly. Carefully. No sudden movements. They could get through this.

"The war impacts all of us, Miss."

"Yes," Mai allowed. Blank.

The silence stretched onward. Metal rasped against metal, and the broadsword glowed white-hot beneath the hammer-and-tong. Zuko could feel the sun setting behind him. It tugged at his soul.

"I…" Mai's fingers fidgeted; she longed for her darts, no doubt. "I'm here because…"

But Zuko wasn't to know why Mai had come there, for that was when their fragile standoff was shattered by the sound of an explosion to the north.

Zuko whirled to stare at the forest. Tongues of flame licked at the skyline, towering above the town's wall. Mai pinched the bridge of her nose, wincing.

"Oh, she _didn't_," Mai hissed under her breath.

"Not _now_," Zuko cursed to himself.

The two nobles started at each other, wide-eyed, until the blacksmith saw fit to speak once more.

"Take your swords, sonny! Take your swords and go!" Panic did not suit the blacksmith's large, scarred frame. He wore it awkwardly. Zuko's still-steaming broadsword was practically thrust into his hands. "It's the Fire Nation! The Fire Nation is coming! "

Boots pounded against the cobblestones; Earth Kingdom soldiers running to the town walls.

So much for stealth.


	2. Chapter 2

**Tinderbox – Part 02**

---

_Disclaimer: _Nickelodeon owns the Earth Kingdom's swanky fashions, and all other Avatar-related trademarks. I own an iBook and a copy of Microsoft Word. Together, we fight crime!

---

Lin jumped at the sound of the explosion just beyond the village walls. It wasn't a pleasant experience. His hipbone had been shattered years ago, one of the many victims of the Dragon of the West's assault on Ba Sing Se. Better men than Lin had been crippled during the fall of the outer wall. When the cannonballs came thundering in, the Earthbenders had been too overwhelmed to redirect all of the falling stone and mortar.

Hot little lances of pain dug into Lin's flesh. They were familiar – too familiar. Each time this happened he hoped that the pain would abate a little, or that he'd gain some tolerance. Each time, he was disappointed.

Lin propped himself up against the wall of the alleyway, breath ragged. At least he hadn't fallen. If he'd fallen they would have seen him. And the blacksmith – bloody Mitsuo – didn't know how to keep his damned mouth shut.

People were shouting in the distance. Lin could do nothing to help, so he ignored them. Instead he focused on little Tulip, who seemed to have found an… ally? Sweet little girl like her and a scruffy vagabond like that didn't seem right somehow.

Poor little Tulip. So dour. She must have a lot to worry about.

Lucky for her that Lin had a good head on his shoulders.

When the mismatched pair of outsiders began their dash towards the gate, Lin bit his lip until it bled in order to distract himself from the agony of walking. Then he followed.

---

Mai was skilled at schooling her emotions. It was an important talent to hold at court, where any and all weaknesses would be mercilessly exploited. Fire Nation aristocrats took their intrigues as seriously as they took their wars.

Unlike wars, the intrigues never had to end.

Mai found it all very tedious. It was hard to be affected by gossip and political head-games when you were too jaded to care.

Except Mai kind of wished that Ty Lee were here, right now, because suddenly her emotional control was _failing_. Techniques that worked in the world's greatest city were of no use at all in this stupid little town. Mai had grimaced at the explosions and spoken without thinking and she was very annoyed with herself and… where the hell was Zuko going?

The knife-thrower sighed, imperceptibly, and then took off after him.

"Where do you think you're going?" Mai asked, as soon as she caught up to the former Prince. She had to walk at a brisk trot in order to keep up.

When had Zuko gotten so tall?

"Now you decide to speak plainly?"

"I _was_ speaking plainly," Mai responded dryly. It wasn't Mai's fault that Zuko had somehow managed to spend even more of his childhood at court than _she_ had, without picking up an ounce of doublespeak. It took real talent to be that oblivious.

Zuko suddenly stopped in the middle of the street, and turned on Mai. A less coordinated girl would have run smack-dab into his chest.

Mai noted that he hadn't sheathed his swords.

When did Zuko start carrying swords?

"What is Azula doing?" Zuko demanded, his voice low and rough with urgency. Was he insane? They were in the middle of a crowded square! Townspeople flowed around them, running everywhere and which-way. All roads led to the high stone walls.

"General Iroh is hiding somewhere around here, right? You don't want the Earth Kingdom on your trail. You can't attack me here."

Mai brought a hand to her breast, as though she were a sheltered merchant's daughter overwhelmed by the thought of the Fire Nation's approach. The motion allowed her to pull a thin, sharp needle from its hiding-place in her cleavage.

It felt good to be armed.

"Stop stalling," Zuko said, looming over her.

When had Zuko gotten so… solid?

"I'm not stalling." Mai wrestled her tone into the usual deadpan. Speaking emotionally would not motivate Zuko to see reason. "You know I'm right. Azula sent me shopping in this ridiculous getup, precisely so that we wouldn't be detected. Nobody wants the Earth Kingdom army in this area. I don't know what happened out there, but Azula had no intention of setting off a blast."

"Azula always lies," Zuko said, as if by rote.

"Azula's too smart to draw the eye of Ba Sing Se. We can't run now. I didn't get a chance to purchase supplies," Mai thought out loud. Azula might send Mai on an errand, knowing she would encounter Zuko, as some kind of bizarre test. But Azula would never set a blast so perilously close to the trio's own base of operations! The more Mai considered the explosion, the less sense it made. "You know this. You can't charge into something Azula couldn't fight without breaking her cover."

Zuko appeared to consider Mai's words for a few seconds. Then he shook his head.

"Azula always lies. That means I can't trust you either. If this is her way of drawing me out into a trap then I don't care, because I'm tired of running. I'll face her lies straight on."

Zuko turned – turned his unprotected back to her, such disrespect! – and resumed walking towards the gate in the town walls.

When had Zuko become so adamant? When had the sensitive boy that liked to sit in parks with his mother become the kind of person that casually walked into a firestorm?

And why was Mai trying to help him?

Ty Lee was out there somewhere, dealing with Agni knew what. Azula could take care of herself, but Ty Lee was…Ty Lee never _thought_ about anything. She was obnoxiously cheerful and her stupidity was legendary, but Fire Spirit help Mai, Ty Lee was the only person in the world who could even come close to understanding Mai's position. Maybe that counted for something.

Or maybe this strange new Zuko-shaped person was throwing off Mai's good sense. That had to be it. Azula's misstep was a shock in and of itself.

There was no other excuse for feeling so…lost.

_Stupid_. This _feeling_ was incredibly annoying.

"Listen to me, Zuko!"

She narrowed her eyes, gritted her teeth, and flicked her needle at Zuko's neck. Blood oozed from the tiny wound. A few millimeters to the left, and the projectile would have opened up an artery.

Zuko slapped his hand to his neck and pulled out the needle. It looked like he was slapping away a mosquito.

"Listen to me." Mai lowered her voice again, approaching the furious ex-Prince. She'd just given away a weapon that she could have used to kill him. Zuko was a trained warrior. He'd have to understand _that _kind of doublespeak. "It's not a ploy. If Ty Lee is in danger I want backup. The General's out there too. You might need the same. Who else in this village are you going to tell about the Dragon of the West?"

Mai knew that Zuko had gotten the unspoken message when she moved within arm's reach, and he responded by nodding warily. He could just as easily have put her in an arm-lock or thrown her into a wall.

"So now you want me to lead you straight to Uncle? Be serious." 

"What did I just-"

"We'll go to the gate," Zuko interrupted. He sheathed one of his swords, then then closed his free hand over Mai's bare shoulder. It was a strange parody of affection.

When had Zuko's skin grown so rough?

The exile bent his head in order to murmur into the shell of Mai's ear. His breath was hot on her neck. His hand squeezed tighter against her skin and yes, Mai understood this language. Finally, after all that bickering, they had a way to communicate. It was about time.

"And we'll go together, because I don't trust you out of my sight. If you have any more stunts up your dress, then I _will_ hurt you, witnesses or no. I've announced my presence in an Earth Kingdom village before."

The pressure of his palm was a show of strength. It warned Mai not to press her luck.

Zuko watched Mai like a hawk as they pushed their way through the panicked crowd, but that was fine. All it meant was that Mai had to turn her head when she smiled her secret smile. And why not? Mai had gotten through. Part of Zuko must suspect that Mai's concern for Ty Lee was genuine.

Trust Zuko to buy into the kind of sentimental argument that no respectable Fire Nation commander would touch with a ten-foot pike. Under all that bluster, he hadn't changed at all.

---

When Zuko was sent to sea, he was given an all-male crew. Apparently the sailors thought that it was bad luck to have women on-board.

At first, Zuko had been skeptical about the practice. The Fire Nation prided itself on being egalitarian towards the placement of women in the armed forces. It was one of the many things that set them apart from the savages.

Over time, boredom drove Zuko to ask the sailors why women were unwelcome. They said it was the same reason why the Water Tribe must restrict female Waterbenders to healing – the Moon Spirit lent women her power, but the Ocean Spirit did not want them. Otherwise it didn't make sense not to use those girls as a military asset. No mariner worth his salt was foolish enough to defy the wisdom of the Water Tribe.

Personally, Zuko thought that the superstition had its roots in something that his men knew instinctively: _all women were crazy._

Azula's follower was case-in-point. Mai had enabled Zuko's insane sister to chase him into the Earth Kingdom. She'd babbled at him in some kind of weird code, and then flung a needle into his neck. Her little friends had probably sent this place into a stampede with their pyrotechnics. And yet somehow he, _Zuko_, had been made to feel like the unreasonable party in their dealings.

It was bewildering. How did Mai _do_ that?

Zuko would dearly love to know when he'd built up enough poor karma to deserve all of this.

Uncle had taught Zuko to assess and break down any emergency situation into manageable pieces. It was sound advice.

Facts:

1) _All women were crazy._

2) Zuko could smell smoke in the air, and feel a sea of flame flickering out of his reach. If he concentrated hard enough he could hear trees crack and fall beyond the wall. It wouldn't surprise him if a forest fire were under way. Nearby rural people might flee to the town for shelter.

3) The town itself was worn and picked-over. Non-essential infrastructure had been stripped away and sent off to fuel the war effort. However, the walls of the town were probably older than the unification of the Earth Kingdom itself. They were old, strong, and sturdy. That meant they could withstand an inferno.

4) Soldiers ran through the streets, trying to usher civilians back into their homes, but it did no good. The militiamen were too timid, because they were the sons and brothers of the people they ought to have been herding. There was no way that untrained boys like these could keep order by force. Even a weak enemy could overrun a soft target like this, within a matter of hours.

...and there was no reason for Zuko to categorize anything because there was no reason for him to care. It was only a mental exercise. A reflex. If Zuko didn't have to make sure Mai wasn't plotting to knife him in the back, he'd already have been beyond the gate already.

Uncle had better be all right.

Mai threaded her way ahead of him. While Zuko had to muscle people out of the way, Mai seemed to weave her way through the mob effortlessly. The pudgy little girl that he remembered had grown angular and pale – as long-limbed as a spidergazelle.

It was disconcerting to think about how much else must have changed in the Fire Nation, since Zuko had been gone.

"Slow down," Zuko grumbled.

"You can't keep up?"

"I didn't say that."

"Mmm," Mai made a bored, dismissive noise. Again, Zuko felt like the unreasonable person in the conversation. She hadn't even had to use _words_ this time. _Dammit_.

Finally the pair reached the town gate. What they found there was enough to make Zuko want to beat his head against the nearest brick wall. A crowd of women and what could loosely be termed 'soldiers' were milling around with no discernable objective. People outside the walls were banging on the doors to get it, but no one would let the door down. They were too busy screaming, crying, hyperventilating, and arguing about whether or not unbarring the door would let in Fire Nation troops.

Bashing his own brains out would have been dishonorable, so Zuko chose to yell instead.

"All of you, _stop it right now_," Zuko roared. It made him feel marginally better about his day.

The townsfolk were stunned enough to pause.

"Who's in charge here?" Zuko demanded.

The rabble looked at one another. Then they looked back at Zuko. The pounding on the other side of the gate continued.

Incidents like this reminded Zuko why Fire Nation conquest was so often justified. What the hell was wrong with these people?

"Have any of you ever smelled burnt flesh? Have you ever heard someone burned alive?"

No one responded.

"I didn't think so." Zuko stomped up to the pulley that would lower the gate. The townsfolk stood uselessly around him, and Mai looked…bemused?

Feh. Crazy.

A young man in too-large Earth Kingdom uniform stood in Zuko's way, blocking his access to the primitive gate mechanism. He waved around a long spear, unstable as a newborn fawn. Zuko realized with a start that the boy couldn't be much younger than himself. The rookie's obvious inexperience was surreal. In the Fire Nation a boy this age who couldn't hold his own in combat would be a laughingstock.

"You have a problem?" Zuko crossed his arms. It was time to get down to business.

The rookie's knees shook, but he held his ground.

"Wh-who do you think you are? I've been in the city militia a whole year! Y-you… I mean, you could let the Fire Nation in here. We could all die! Chiang Rai is a proud town of the Earth Kingdom, a-and…"

Rookie was as pale as a pelicandove.

A rash of murmuring broke out amongst the townsfolk. In his peripheral vision, Zuko caught Mai brushing her hemline in a way that made him instantly wary.

Zuko didn't have time for this.

"Stand down," Zuko ordered. He drew his swords in a smooth, flashy movement that was calculated to impress.

The murmuring grew louder. A few of the other faux-soldiers looked prepared to support their comrade. Mai hung back. She shouldn't be worried. If worst came to worst, they could take the gate by force.

The Firebender was swiftly losing patience. Something had to give.

---

Oh, no. No, no, no, no, no. This was not good. This was the opposite of good. This was very bad!

Lin had found hope, all wrapped up in a pretty green dress. The fishwives and rejects left in this town were not going to take that away from him!

"_Stop_!" Lin shouted, hoarsely. "Listen to me! You're making a mistake!"

The veteran shuffled through the crowd, towards the pair of strangers. Lin had gathered several friends on the way over, spreading the good news. They followed in his wake.

His eyes drank in the sight of them. The girl shifted uncomfortably. Oh, but she couldn't understand how much she meant!

"Look at them. A professional soldier and a merchant princess! People like them would never come to goddamned Chiang Rai for themselves. We ain't nothing but peasants!"

Lin's pain was gone, replaced by a manic breed of optimism.

"You've all heard the rumors about how the Avatar joined forces with some rich missy, hidden away from the world. The mercenaries have been crawling all over here. Come on, _look_!"

Lin brandished a crudely-inked poster that had been dropped off at the local pub by a stranger who called himself Boulder. Dark hair, pale skin, light eyes.

"Why would someone like her be here? I reckon I know," Lin said, conspiratorially. His eyes sparkled. "She told me that her master sent her here. Don't you see? The Avatar knew there would be danger, and he sent help for us! That there's gotta be Toph Bei Fong!"

---

What?

Mai cleared her throat before Zuko had the chance to open his mouth. If he was proud enough to proclaim his identity in the last village he'd visited, Agni knew what he'd blurt out this time.

She surveyed the crowd. They were pathetically hopeful. Also, many of them were carrying weapons. Mai and Zuko could take out this mob, but slaughtering such inferior combatants would be deathly boring. Not to mention that it was in poor taste.

Time to think fast.

"You're right," Mai agreed, in a no-nonsense manner. She was doing her very best impression of the way she'd seen the captain of the Palace Guard order around his troops. As far as impressions went, it was extremely poor.

"All of you should heed my associate."

Fortunately for Mai, the townsfolk were desperate to see what they wanted to see: someone who cared about their backwater burg as more than a depot supplying bodies and bread to the Earth Kingdom Army. An agent of the savior who would end the war.

"My master is the Avatar. I am Toph Bei Fong."

The crowd erupted into a ragged cheer.

Hm.

Mai couldn't rightfully complain. She _had_ been the one to wish for interesting times.

---

_Author's Note:_

Many thanks to Rawles for her beta-reading of this chapter. Any clarity or style mistakes remaining are my fault. If you're into Zuko/Mai, you should not need me to tell you that you need to seek out her fic. Get thee hence!

The original version of this chapter was about 2000 words longer, and contained sections from Azula and Ty Lee's POVs. Ultimately, I decided that it would be better to leave what's going on beyond the village walls a mystery. The reader knows what Mai and Zuko know, and that's it.

C&C is more than welcome. I'm happy to have received so many kind reviews thus far.

Cheers!


	3. Chapter 3

**Tinderbox – Part Three**

_Disclaimer_: Nickelodeon owns Mai's stabby manicure, and all other Avatar-related trademarks. If _I _owned Mai's stabby manicure then it might be animated more consistently.

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The sun sank low in the sky, an eerie, muted white behind the hazy smoke of the forest fire. Any refugees were long settled, and Zuko had gone off somewhere to badger the local militia boys into a sham of competence. Mai wondered if he missed command, or if he felt he owed a debt for leading Azula to the town. When Mai'd named him as an accomplice of the Avatar, it had been a transparent ploy to keep him around. Mai knew that it would look dishonorable for Zuko to abandon the town to their unknown enemyonce she'd pointed out to the villagers that he was clearly the only experienced soldier for miles.

It had been a gamble. He could have left regardless.

But apparently honor was still enough to keep him around. Mai could remember a time when the Prince played with toy soldiers in the palace gardens. Azula would spot tactical mistakes in their formation and he'd storm off in embarrassment, since they weren't _mistakes _on his part. It was just that he felt sorry for the foot-soldier pieces that couldn't bend and placed his favorites safely away from the front, where they could mop up any enemy stragglers that remained after the initial assault.

He never explained himself to Azula. Zuko hadcared too much about what other people thought.

At the time, young Mai had wished Zuko would care more about what _she_ thought, because she could have told him that she noticed little things like thatwhich Azula missed. And then she could have asked him not to stop, because his soldiers might have been badly placed but Mai'd never seen a battle planned like that in her schoolbooks so it was kind of _interesting_.

Butof course, he never had. And that had been a long time ago, before Mai learned to sharpen her nails in case she was ever in a situation where jamming sharp claws into sensitive places would be her only line of defense. Before she was taught about maintaining cover in enemy territory.

_Anyway_. At least her memories still proved somewhat useful. It wasn't her fault that they easily distracted her at the moment. It wasn't like Mai was sentimental; she was just bored.

The townsfolk had set up a chair and some refreshments for the delicate Toph Bei Fong on the shaded porch of the local inn. Mai presumed that this was because the setup made it more convenient for the vanguard of old women that surrounded her to pester her with ridiculous inquiries about the Avatar.

If her count was correct, they were currently at question number one-hundred and twenty-one.

"Everyone's heard what the Avatar did with those pentapuss at Omashu! Do you think it would be possible to bring some here? Those Fire Nation idiots might fall for it again, and our bathtub must be large enough to hold four or five. My little Tam won't mind having to bathe in the creek for a few weeks."

"No. Pentapusses require more temperate weather."

Make that question number one-hundred and twenty-two.

"Tell me, Mistress Bei Fong, do you think the Avatar would like some lychee if I planted them in my garden? Or does he prefer oranges? I ship produce to a stand the next town over and if I could advertise it as Avatar's Choice I could really make a killing. That is, if you don't think the esteemed Avatar would object."

Mai had to take care to remind herself of how sensible her actions were. Repeatedly. She had to shore up her resolve. Otherwise she was certain that she would snap.

"Plums," Mai said, tersely. She'd made up more about the Avatar in the last two hours than she everwanted to actually know about him.

"Of course!" The gardener beamed. No one took the hint that Mai wished to stop speaking. If anything, the departure of one woman only made the rest of them crowd around her even more tightly. "Thank you, Mistress Bei Fong!"

Really, Mai was thrilled that her specialized education was being put to use entertaining rubes. This was the exotic espionage adventure that every Academy student dreamed of.

"Are you all right dearie?" An elderly woman – Sook Yin, the unofficial mayoress - touched Mai's shoulder with concern. She'd been careful to place her chair by Mai's and take charge of caring for the 'delicate' young girl as a way to gain control and prestige from the situation. Shrewd of her.

"Fine, yes."

Evidently, the venerable matriarchs of Chaing Rai thought of her monosyllabic answers were a sign of maidenly shyness and delicacy.

"If that young man of yours is bothering you, he looks a little-" Sook Yin started up again, her lips pursed with concern.

"No."

"If you-"

"No," Mai repeated, in order to shut Sook Yin down. "We've known each other since we were children."

No one expected _Zuko _to sit around answering stupid questions. The townsfolk didn't want to provoke him into violence.

It was understandable. Mai gathered that they mistook him for a particularly shady species of guerilla. Zuko's hair was short and ragged. Weeks' worth of grime starched creases into his mud-brown clothing. Those dual swords were anything but military issue. Livid red scar tissue curved his eye into a permanent glare. Mai had seen _highwaymen_ that looked more respectable than the Prince.

"_I see_," Sook Yin twittered. The rest of the ladies exchanged Significant Looks.

So they'd reach the obvious conclusion. _Predictable_. A useful trait in persons Mai was trying to deceive, but otherwise utterly banal. What a naïve group. They were ready to believe the most outlandish things so long as they made for a good story. If they'd been born in the Fire Nation, they'd have learned to look for the fuel beneath the flash.

Mai didn't believe in fortune, but _something_ was on her side. She was relieved from addressing her faux-discreet audience by the pull of a tiny hand on her skirts. A small boy had managed to squeeze through the copse of old women.

"Mistress Toph, Mistress Toph!"

Mai sat and bore it. Tom-Tom cried when he didn't get his way. This boy must be only a little older. Mai had been kept from her biological family by the business of serving Azula, and… crying children were not something she had learned to deal with. Nor did she wish to begin now.

"Mistress Toph, will you tell me if the Avatar can fly really for real?"

"Yes." Mai disliked children. They were loud and they created a fuss. Mai was quiet and she quashed fusses with decisive force. "He's an Airbender."

"_Yeah!_" The boy crowed in triumph. "I bet he flies like this, right Mistress Toph?"

The child jumped up and down, flapping his arms like an idiot.

"No. He uses a system of false wings embedded in a staff-like Airbending artifact," Mai quoted from one of Azula's briefings.

The little peasant child looked crestfallen. His eyes were big, green, and watery.

He stared at her.

Mai gazed back.

His eyes widened pitifully.

Mai gave up.

"The Avatar can manipulate the air to make his glider wings flap, if necessary," she lied. The boy grinned from ear to ear, and ran off to play Agni-knew-whattedious game. It was for the best. Sook Yin had looked both willing and able to bat the boy away with her cane.

Mai guessed that the withered old lady had kept her claws on the power in this village since before Mai was born. Sook Yin's face was as craggy and weathered as those of Azula's spinster sifus.

She must want the favor of Toph Bei Fong.

This was Azula's game. This was Azula's spotlight. Mai felt entirely out of her element. A septuagenarian was going to eat her alive and Azula and Ty Lee were nowhere and Zuko had no compelling reason to bail her out.

"I'm so sorry," the boy's caretaker squeaked, softly from outside of the circle of matriarchs that Sook Yin had gathered. Her clothing was patched and worn. She kept her shoulders hunched to the ground. "My little brother, um, bother anyone? I fell asleep and…"

"And what's to happen to our little soldiers if you do that, Lixue?" Sook Yin rebuffed her gravely.

Lixue looked at the dirt, chastened. This was a conversation that they had had before.

"I'm sorry."

"Good," Sook Yin dismissed Lixue with a wave of her hand. One of Sook Yin's ladies was pouring Mai a new glass of iced plum juice.

Mai stood. This was it. She had to get out of there while she still had a chance of escape.

"Lixue," Mai said. "May I speak with you?"

"Mistress Bei Fong-" Sook Yin interrupted.

"Please," Mai said. "The Avatar sent me here to help people. She's tired."

The ladies erupted into a chorus of mutters, one and all of them singing the virtues of the tender-hearted Toph Bei Fong.

Mai stepped outside the crowd and led the peasant away. Her mind was working overtime.

"I meant it," Mai could have clasped Lixue's hand, but she didn't. Getting close to people only skewed her methods.

"I have an offer to make you," Mai glanced around in order to make sure that Zuko wasn't hovering in the walls above them. Then she outlined her proposal in hushed tones.

"Wh-why would you want to-," Lixue stammered.

Mai merely raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, _I see_."

And that was that.

Now Mai had time to make some real plans.

---

The day had been exhausting, if not physically stressful. Hours had passed since Zuko's retreat to the town inn. Both he and Mai had been offered accommodation, but they were granted separate rooms. That left Zuko alone with his thoughts – always a dangerous place to be.

He wasn't sure what to think about the day's events, so he didn't. Women were crazy and life was crazier. That basically summed it up.

Zuko exhaled lightly, and shifted on his futon. His first instinct was to sink into the soft bedding and refuse to emerge for the next twelve hours. Months had passed since he'd slept on anything better than moldy straw.

Naturally, that wasn't a feasible course of action. There was never an easy way. He had to stay awake. He had to evade Mai, leave the town, investigate the disturbance, and, above all, find Uncle if the coast was clear.

That was all.

Right.

The swordsman levered himself into a sitting position with a low groan. His back ached in protest. Uncle said that hard living wore down the flow of chi. Zuko knew the truth of that because he woke up every morning with knotted shoulders and flea-bitten forearms and bruised calves and the persistent twinge of pulled tendons. He learned best through repetition.

No matter. Good soldiers fell into formation with no complaint. When he'd stared down the fires of his first Agni Kai, Zuko had promised himself that he would become a good soldier.

Zuko fished his broadswords out from under the bed and then quickly threw on his peasant clothing. It smelled like sweat and dirt. There was more where that came from.

When he exited the room, he came face to face with Mai's doorway across the hall.

Zuko frowned in the darkness. He had a problem on his hands. If he left Mai alone in the village there was no telling what she would do behind his back. Contact Azula? Maybe. Devise a way to plant a knife in his back? Probably. Think of more crazy corners to talk Zuko into? _ Absolutely_.

There were ways to neutralize this threat without acting indecorously. Zuko chose one.

Carefully, the swordsman sidled up to Mai's doorway. The floorboards creaked under the heavy soles of his boots. His breath caught in his throat, and paused. Thirty seconds of undisturbed silence assured him that he hadn't been detected.

Zuko crouched and put his good ear to the door. A dozen heartbeats passed. No sounds issued from within the chamber. Good.

Satisfied that no one was awake within the room, Zuko shifted on the balls of his feet in order to peer into the room through the keyhole. He caught a glimpse of loose dark hair pooling over white sheets.

Zuko immediately looked away. He'd confirmed that a human body was sleeping in there and that was all he needed to know. Zuko might not have seen anyone like Mai since leaving home, but that didn't mean he needed to see, er, _more_ of her. He was notthe kind of person that went around peeping at girls in hostels.

Though that didn't stop him from staring awkwardly at the wall for a few while before standing.

Once he'd righted himself, Zuko contorted his left hand into tiger-claw stance. His fingertips sparked, without preamble, and a tiny column of flame formed at the center of his palm. This was more delicate work than he was used to. The Firebender took care to keep his breathing shallow and steady.

It sounded inordinately loud - living breath in the dead of night.

Ordinarily, this was where Zuko would lash out in an open-handed strike to grab and twist and rend and burn whatever was within his path. Instead he carefully raised the tiny flame to the door's cheap tin locking mechanism. No key would be able to open it- from inside or out - if the tumblers were deformed by heat.

The metal wasn't welded enough to provide a real barrier, but it was enough for Zuko's purposes. Mai couldn't destroy the door hinges without causing a commotion. Their rooms were three stories above-ground, so there was no way she could jump to the street below. That should be enough to keep the girl contained for the evening.

Zuko re-sheathed his swords before swaggering down the stairs and out of the building. He was feeling pretty pleased with himself.

Zuko: One. Royal Fire Nation Academy for Girls: _Zero_.

---

Mai sat in shadow. The rough wool coat she'd borrowed from Lixue blended back into the darkness. Cool night air raised goose-bumps down her bare legs.

For the first time that day, no one was watching her. Her upper body was shrouded in the comforting weight of cloth. Mai felt glorious.

She took a deep breath in and a deep breath out, savoring the freedom of it. There was promise in the sound of the crickets beyond the walls. Finally, she'd found something worthwhile to occupy her time.

Mai was going hunting.

It was what she'd come all the way out here for. She was Azula's weapon – as prized and expendable as any wrought-iron war machine – but that did not strip the joy from it.

Mai had no choice, except the choice to love her work. So she did.

At the moment Mai was crouched in a darkened corner turret. Lixue – a diversion, poor_ weary _little dove – slept safe and warm in Mai's bed. The peasant girl had been so grateful for the offer of a night of peace and quiet away from her family! She thought that she was playing decoy, so that Mai could sneak off on some tawdry sexual escapade.

In actuality, Mai was watching for her prey.

She'd anticipated that Zuko might try to make a break for it. And there he was, the Lost Prince of the Fire Nation, his skin stark white against the cobblestones of the town square. He walked right out the front door of the inn, and towards the gate. The blacksmith had been drafted to stand guard. After a few minutes of chatting, he allowed Zuko through.

What would happen? You never knew. It was _unpredictable_. So vital and alive, compared to the dusty grey halls of the governor's mansion or the staid corridors of the Academy.

Mai felt her heart beat against her ribcage.

When Zuko exited the town, she scaled down the wall using a stolen rope. The fibers bit into her hands, and she wished for her gloves. She wished for proper knives, too. The ones she'd bought that afternoon were badly-weighted kitchen utensils, and Mai knew they'd rotate in flight.

It wasn't personal. That was what she told herself, as she shadowed Zuko through the forest. Why should it be personal? Mai was a weapon. She knew what Azula would do if it became known that Mai let the exile out of her sights. Good weapons didn't disappoint their wielders. Good soldiers listened to orders.

Was she not a daughter of the Fire Nation? Didn't she have that pride to hold on to? It was Zuko's own fault. He'd done this to himself. Mai had known that since the day Azula came for her in Omashu.

Mai's slippers were thin. She lurked in the shade of age-old redwoods. She was careful not to break any underbrush with her passing. The Prince made enough noise for the both of them.

Her mouth was dry. The hunter swallowed in spite of herself. Something wasn't right. Zuko never looked back, never checked his direction using the stars or the moss. Ash snowed down on the both of them, casting their footprints in relief.

And suddenly, she knew. Zuko wasn't heading towards Iroh like Mai'd anticipated. She'd have no chance to note the location of their hideout and then go looking for help from Azula and Ty Lee.

The Prince was headed for the blast site.

What was he doingwalking right into a potential trap? Or a warzone? Mai had already _told_ Zuko what might lie in wait!

Mai's pulse sped. It felt like her heart would flutter right out of her chest.

Her expression remained blank.

They were passing the fire line. Wind had blown the blaze away from their location, but it had done a fine job on the local vegetation. Zuko proceeded out into the open - past charred stumps and smoldering logs of charcoal – where Mai dared not follow for fear of being seen.

The remains of Azula's tank towered over the desolate landscape. Moonlight glinted off of broken metal. Steel support beams jutted up from the vehicle's frame like great bleached bones. Its innards spilled out across the clearing.

Mai's heart sank into the pit of her stomach. Some small hope extinguished itself. Ty Lee and Azula were nowhere to be seen.

Zuko was going to investigate.

Mai's knives were in the debris.

Zuko was going to find them.

Mai wanted her knives.

Zuko would catch her if he saw her.

Mai was certain he would see her.

But Mai had a chance of getting to her weapons, if she ran hard for where she'd left them and prayed to Agni for the luck of the sun.

Breathe in, breathe out.

Mai ran.

---

_Author's Note_: This chapter? Pure setup, I'm afraid! Do bear with me. Thanks go out to Sifu Rawles, my teacher in the ways of grammarbending, and all around beta master.

Rest assured that I have done my research when it comes to pointy things! Mai's complaint about the random kitchen knives has basis in fact. Throwing knives need to be weighted properly to fly true.

Interestingly, Mai's combat style doesn't appear to have any foundation in Asian martial arts at all. It doesn't bear much resemblance to shruiken-throwing. The only analogue I could find was spear-style combat knife-throwing, which was invented by an American fellow a couple of decades ago. It's funny that the Avatar authors would include something so modern in their feudal fantasy world.

Then again, these are the people that included GIANT TANKS in their feudal fantasy world. I can't really cry anachronism at this point.


	4. Chapter 4

**Tinderbox – Part Four**

_Disclaimer: _Nickelodeon owns questionable Earth Kingdom fashion choices and all other Avatar-related trademarks. I own a three year-old green jacket. Who do you think is making the profit here?

---

Wildfire danced on the horizon. The charred corpses of dead trees stretched out before him. Zuko could make out thin lines of ash and ember among the black.

The late hour didn't hamper his vision. Flame cast the area in hell's own twilight.

A bone crunched beneath the heel of Zuko's boot. Something squished against the leather. He ignored it. Oily smoke and the scent of burnt flesh fold him all that he needed to know, and the Firebender preferred not to dwell upon the latter.

All the fauna fit to travel had left the area hours ago. Nocturnal birds did not break the peace. There were no leaves left for the wind to rustle. Here, in the wake of the great blaze, Zuko was entirely alone.

Too alone for comfort.

Where the _hell_ was Azula? 

If this was Azula's idea of a trap, then she hadn't left herself much cover to work with. The idea that his sister would spring out at him from under a mound of ash was laughable. Azula wouldn't take a win that involved crawling in the dirt like a bandit. Not when it came to showing up her brother. 

The ruins of Azula's tank gaped open a mere forty meters away. Zuko eyed the wreckage warily. He'd expected to be in the fray by now. Heading to the scene of the crime had been an excuse to run into trouble and kick it until it bled. No muss. No fuss. No running and hiding and compromising his dignity as he'd been forced to for months on end. After taking on the enemy Zuko could join Uncle without having to worry about what might or might not follow him.

Yet fate, as usual, refused to cooperate with Zuko's best intentions. No one was left here. Azula and her other crony would have attacked him by now if they were around. He didn't see any rampaging beasts, spirits, mercenaries, or soldiers.

There was only peace and quiet. That meant he could go to Uncle, didn't it? They could leave without further stress, right? Everything had worked out in his favor. 

Maybe. 

Zuko started walking towards the tank debris at a slow, measured pace. There was no discounting the possibility that there was a booby trap in the ruins. Walking into one might actually be relieving. He was growing habitually suspicious of situations where he didn't have to struggle to get what he wanted.

Bushes rustled from behind him. 

Zuko whirled into a Firebending stance. 

A dark figure burst forth from the untouched forest. 

Zuko hadn't expected an offensive from that direction, but he refused to be surprised. His tension drained away. Uncle said that the most power lay in a relaxed and confident stance.

Zuko was relaxed. He was also confident. This fight was exactly what he'd been looking for.

The figure charged forward with arms trailing. Its coat flapped behind it like the wings of some demented carrion bird. Zuko didn't know what this person was trying to pull by running up on his blind-spot without taking a combat position, and he wasn't going to wait around to find out.

The Firebender exhaled sharply, and made a chopping motion with his right hand. An arc of flame shot out to intercept his opponent. The ground before her feet erupted in sparks – the embers of the wildfire reignited. She leapt over his warning shot fearlessly, wreathed in acrid black smoke. 

Zuko could make out a girl's face in the firelight. Her features were as pale and sharp as carved bone. Her expression was closed and without flaw. 

Mai.

_Unbelievable._ The thing that came after him was the one thing he thought he'd settled.

Mai's steps were light. She wove her way through fallen tree-trunks as though they weren't even there. Soon she'd pass right by him. If she reached the ruins of the tank then she could use the frame as a shield.

That was unacceptable.

Zuko refused to feel disappointment or self-reproach over his failed containment strategy. He was stronger than that and he would_ prove_ it. He would summon up some anger to cauterize those annoying feelings and return his attention to the task at hand.

The Firebender sunk his weight into the earth, and then _pushed _with the balls of his feet, launching himself upwards. His torso twisted in midair as he executed a flawless lateral spinning kick. 

All that he managed to kick was the ends of Mai's pigtails. She'd flung herself into a somersault the second she saw Zuko pounce. He could hear the raggedness of her breath. 

Zuko landed in a crouch. A circle of flame briefly flared and spiraled out around him – a precaution in case Mai got any more brilliant ideas about imitation acrobatics. It disturbed the charcoal on the ground and released another cloud of thick black smoke. Zuko's bad eye stung with remembered pain. He struggled to bite back a curse. 

The distraction gave Mai sufficient time to recover from her roll and continue forward. 

"What do you think you're doing?" Zuko stalked out of the haze. The contours of Zuko's rage were as worn and familiar as the leather grips of his broadswords.

Mai didn't reply. 

"I want answers!" Zuko barked, all too aware that he couldn't provide a bite to match. Ground strikes would give her more cover in these conditions. If he aimed for flesh he wouldn't miss.

A Prince wouldn't be so weak as to hold back and place himself in peril for a weak-hearted ideal of aristocratic behavior. But Zuko wasn't a prince anymore.

Zuko's fingertips grazed the handles of his broadswords, reflexively. When he realized what he was doing he withdrew as if scalded.

He charged off in pursuit, empty-handed. 

---

Tsk, such _dramatics_. Flair for the theatrical was one of the few things that Zuko had in common with Azula. So was command of superhot magical flames. Were she not long inured to the Princess' antics, Mai undoubtedly would have been terrified.

Instead she felt inexplicably lighthearted. That wasn't a very sensible attitude to have when you were caught between a wall of flame and an ornery Firebender. Perhaps it had something to do with heightened combat chi flow. Mai might look it up, back home, if she miraculously discovered that she cared.

As it was, Mai was thankful that she'd made it to the shell that had once been Azula's prized tank. The scorched earth was rough - cracked and oddly uneven. It had taken all of her concentration not to fall on her face during the Prince's onslaught.

Mai ducked back behind the tank's skeletal frame. Her eyes searched frantically for any sign of gleaming metal in the debris. There was no time to be dismayed about her clothing or her scrolls. The weapons locker at the aft was made of the finest Firebender-tempered steel, and Mai's spares were in there. 

"Whatever you're doing, stop." Zuko's voice was heavy with warning. He'd slowed his pace. Evidently he'd noticed that the chase was off.

Mai attempted to open a cabinet door, and hissed in pain. The metal hadn't cooled.

"No," Mai refused. She was glad that her breath had returned. 

She drew a kitchen knife from the heavy folds of her sleeves. 

"If you come near me, I'll stab you," Mai bluffed. She had no idea how far Zuko's martial skills had progressed, since Azula was rarely an accurate source of information about her brother. Maybe Mai'd be able to get the hit in before Zuko overwhelmed her with physical strength. Maybe she wouldn't.

Zuko would have to gamble on it. Before that, he'd have to _think_, which left Mai with a few precious moments to try prying the weapons locker open with her spare hand.

"So?" Zuko flicked a tendril of fire just over her head. Mai ignored the rush of heat and wrapped a sleeve around her free hand. Then she grabbed the door handle and heaved.

"You're not going to set me on fire," Mai informed Zuko. He'd spent all day being predictable. There was no reason for him to stop now.

"I don't need to set you on fire."

"Is that so?" Mai arched an eyebrow. The effect was entirely spoiled by the effort that she had to put into tugging on the cupboard handle. The force of the explosion had really jammed that door in there.

One more good pull and she'd have it. 

"Yes," Zuko said, through clenched teeth. He looked frustrated enough to chew rocks. 

"Get close enough to punch me, and I'll stab you. Flesh can't block a blade," Mai retorted. She put all of her strength into one final, desperate effort. The door came free and she nearly tumbled backwards.

A shelf's worth of throwing knives awaited her.

She reached forwards, and got her hands on a pair of stilettos just in time to block the broadsword slashing towards her side. The blade was heavier than her daggers, and its wielder possessed a practiced strength. Mai's wrists stung with the impact. Forget close-range stabbing. There was no way she could beat the reach of Zuko's glorified cleavers.

Mai threw herself to the side, dodging wildly. Her thoughts had come un-shuffled. She needed a moment to put them back together. 

Instinct told Mai that Zuko would not give one to her. 

"Those weren't for show," she stalled. If she could back up and get the distance for throwing, she might be able to upset Zuko's advantage.

Charred flora crunched beneath her feet. She could feel the cracks in the soil beneath the thin soles of her slippers.

Zuko's shoulders flexed, and he spun his swords in a deadly figure-eight. He used the deceptively lazy-looking movements of the extremely well-practiced. That was all the response he was going to give her.

No. The swords were not, as Mai had assumed, a _show _to keep robbers off his back. 

Mai was in trouble.

She sacrificed one of her knives to the greater good, throwing it towards an important tendon in Zuko's forearm. A test.

The broadswords flashed. Mai's knife skittered to the side.

Her eyes widened, imperceptibly. Zuko kept advancing forwards. Mai kept stepping back.

"Ox-tail broadswords? What happened to you? You've only been with the peasants for four months."

Zuko's mouth twisted into a grimace. He almost looked embarrassed. What need would a Firebender Prince have, to use such a lowly civilian weapon? 

"And what would _you_ know about where I've been?"

Touche.

Zuko was steering Mai away from the tank and towards the forest fire. The scraps of her possessions receded from view. She needed a plan.

"I don't want to hurt you," Zuko told her, advancing. Sentimental _again_. It explained why he hadn't already tried to end this. "Tell me what you're doing out here. I want information on my sister."

Mai looked back at the ruined tank. Ty Lee's Feng Shui board caught her eye, since it was festooned with gaudy pink characters, and beyond that was the insulated weapons locker that she'd just opened. 

Of course. 

Mai had her plan. 

"I only wanted my weapons. You're blowing things out of proportion," Mai drew the largest of her knives and shifted it in the palm of her hand. Zuko crossed his blades warily. Metal flashed in the wildfire. Infernal light made Zuko's scar look less like hideously melted skin and more like the hide of some strange spirit.

"I don't believe you."

"You don't have to."

With that, Mai snapped her arm back, and threw the knife as hard as she could. It flew straight across the wall of the cabinet that she'd just opened, striking sparks across the steel, before embedding itself the trio's bag of blasting compound. The volatile black powder spilled out onto the ground, innocuous as sand.

Until it made contact with still-smoldering embers.

An explosion blossomed against the night sky.

Zuko'd thrown himself at Mai the second that she let loose the knife, but she'd created her distraction, and if his attention wavered she'd twist free and run even though she had no place to go and-

The unstable earth beneath the pair collapsed, and Mai's plan ceased to matter.

---

When the world collapsed around Zuko, he'd been halfway through an improvised takedown. His superior weight was meant to pin Mai for interrogation.

Now, Zuko's superior weight was half-buried in shale, his legs half-drowned by shards of rock. Some of them dug into his calves painfully. He could feel blood trickle down his right leg.

Zuko's breath was short. That was what came of slamming into the side of a crater ribcage-first. The collapse had kicked up clouds of charcoal. Flakes of ash seared at his skin.

He opened his bad eye, since his good one was still pressed into the dirt, and he hadn't the will to lift his head just yet. 

The blurry figure to the side of him was Mai. He knew this because his left arm was flung over her abdomen. Mai's face was an abstract blob in his vision, but there was no one else it could be. He could feel the rhythm of her breath against his bicep. 

Something tickled against his fingers, in contrast to the dull pain of impact. Mai's hair had come loose.

Zuko felt the fight seep out of him.

"Earthbenders," Zuko grunted, once he'd regained his breath.

"Earthbenders," Mai agreed, quietly.

Careless or excessive Earthbending could create seismic disturbances. Any half-educated baboon knew that.

"Shrapnel?" Zuko enquired, because it seemed like the right thing to do. Or maybe because he'd jarred his head and wasn't thinking clearly.

It was just that he was tired – so _tired_ of battling things that could not be fought. 

Mai cracked her back. The sound wasn't pleasant. Then she raised her right hand. A nasty bruise darkened on her wrist.

"Clipped by Ty Lee's feng shui board."

"Ah."

The offending object was embedded in the dirt just above them.

Silence thickened.

"They couldn't have been very skilled Earthbenders," Mai muttered darkly. She tried to push herself up into a sitting position, and then sagged back into place. Mai's hands must be lacerated. Her palms left dark patches on the shale.

"I've fought Earthbenders. They throw rocks," Zuko snorted with derision. 

"One threw an avalanche at us," Mai responded evenly. 

And that was supposed to be impressive to him?

"That's _still_ throwing rocks."

"They _are _peasants," Mai allowed.

"With no education," Zuko agreed. "These provincial towns have no purpose beyond survival. It's all the same."

"It is," Mai drawled. "That's why we crusade for change."

"Right." Zuko dismissed her sarcasm. If more people would say what they meant, and act as they said, then none of this bullshit would be happening.

"It's all the same," Mai threw Zuko's words back at him. Except her voice was bone-dry, and it still retained the clipped inflection of Court. Zuko hadn't realized how stilted and rough his speech and become until that moment. "I thought it would be different." 

"The towns?"

"The world. Sook Yin – the headwoman – she wants something. It's like being in the Fire Court except with soggy food and no good porcelain."

Zuko couldn't remember the last time that he'd eaten off of porcelain. It was impractical to carry breakable things aboard-ship. He tried valiantly to recall what it looked like to see fine porcelain in candlelight, or sit through a state banquet, and found only vague impressions. 

_Home_ was fading. All it left behind was the chilling premonition that one day he really would be nothing but a filth-covered Earth Kingdom fugitive.

"So go back. You're not wanted here," Zuko said pitilessly. Zuko was an old hand at bitterness. If Mai wanted to beat him at that game, he'd like to see her try.

"Right." Mai rolled her eyes.

Azula. Right.

Everything about this conversation was surreal. Zuko's old life pained him like a phantom limb. 

The Firebender withdrew his left arm awkwardly. He wasn't comfortable with surreal. The real gave him enough problems.

"I still want my answers." Zuko heaved himself up by his elbows. Sharp rocks scraped against his belly. With enough leverage he should be able to free his legs. 

"I already gave them to you."

Zuko glared at Mai. She stared back. It was jarringly unlike when they were children.

"You think I _planned_ this?" Mai snapped.

"I don't know." 

"I-"

Voices in the distance. Zuko clamped his hand over Mai's mouth to keep her quiet. For some reason that prompted Mai to bite down on the fleshy base of his thumb, but Zuko managed to choke back any verbal reaction.

"_Quiet_," he whispered.

"What happened here?" A male voice snapped, irate. Zuko flattened himself against the wall of the crater. Shadow and angle should conceal the both of them.

"You think it was the fuel tanks, sir?"

"Dammit, I knew we should have brought an engineer in to examine their disgusting war-machine after the fight. Get Sergeant Shigure out here. He's with the Earthbenders trying to rout the eastern edge forest fire."

"Sir! Yes sir!"

"General Fong isn't going to like this. We're meant to be undercover ops," the officer muttered. A rustling sound followed.

The Earth Kingdom Army. That was bad news. 

Zuko and Mai remained motionless until it was clear that both soldiers had left.

"Let's go," Zuko decided. He dug his legs free, ignoring the way the shale scraped at his flesh, and then helped to pull Mai up from the debris.

Mai dug her knife-belt out of the ash. Then she retrieved that stupid Feng Shui board. Zuko didn't take long to find where his own swords had fallen. This wasn't the time to be self-conscious about not fighting like a _real _Firebender. What was done was done. 

Zuko set off for cover in the un-burnt forest. Mai followed at her own, reluctant pace. It belatedly occurred to Zuko that she might be worried.

"We'll return to the village," he said, gruffly. "We need rest."

The rest could sort itself out later.

"We?"

"Yeah."

Zuko kept walking.

"Who cares about this pathetic territory?" Mai complained, agitated. "These stupid power-struggles are _all the same_. Only idiots care about things this boring."

Zuko paused.

"I care."

Zuko heard a soft sigh, before Mai quickened her pace. Somehow his challenge cemented their truce.

The pair walked back to town in silence. ---

_Author's Note OF DOOM_: All the technical detail in this episode is as accurate as this history nerd can make it. I think I can live with it if a future episode of Avatar contradicts me. That said, I should probably use this author's note to explain myself! I don't want anyone to think that I'm pulling Zuko's sword-angst out of my ass.

In _The Blue Spirit_, when Zuko fights other Fire Nation swordsman, you'll notice that their blades are much straighter and narrower than his. The sword types are very different.

The Fire Nation army appears to use jain straight-swords and willow-leaf sabers - standard weaponry for ancient Chinese military and government officials. Zuko uses ox-tail sabers – a style of broadsword that was _never _adpoted by the respectable classes. Peasant rebels invented the ox-tail saber. Most peasants had no military training; it was easier for them cause damage with the heavier, wider ox-tail sabers, than make precision strikes with thinner swords. The ox-tail saber was used in several anti-government uprisings during the Qing dynasty.

People who used ox-tail sabers were often self-taught, sometimes bastardizing techniques from martial arts schools. Iroh doesn't seem to know about Zuko's swords, so Zuko is probably mostly self-taught as well. It explains _a lot_ about Zuko's reluctance to pull the swords out in front of anyone that matters, if he's using peasant weapons. Shame and pride get in the way of his kicking ass. 

That's my theory and I'm sticking to it! So much love to the Avatar writers for the martial arts detail they stick into every episode.


	5. Chapter 5

**Tinderbox – Part Five**

_Disclaimer: _Nickelodeon owns Firebending and all other Avatar-related trademarks. I own some half-melted candles and an overactive imagination. No profit to see here, folks.

---

Zuko watched dawn break over the walls of Chiang Rai. Light crept up past the barricades to mount a direct assault on the rooftops. No quarter was offered and no prisoners were taken. The sun had resumed its conquest of the sky.

It would be nice to think that his wakefulness was the product of military discipline, but the swordsman knew better. Zuko was awake because his injuries wouldn't allow him any peace.

He leaned heavily against the window-frame, caring less for fresh air than the way that sunrise tugged at his sixth sense. Slowly but surely the moon's oppressive calm was seared away, until the atmosphere shimmered with the promise of fire.

The town square – alive with panicked bodies the day before – was eerily empty to his eye. A few brave vendors straggled through the streets but none seemed eager to set up their stalls and commence the call to market. Beginning the day meant confronting the haze of smoke that blanketed the town in uncertainty.

Zuko kicked irritably at the nest of sheets at his feet, and then cast an exasperated look at the figure sleeping on the futon they'd pushed to the other side of the room. In the quiet, Mai's breathing was impossibly loud. 

He wasn't sure why he'd agreed to let Mai take over the only serviceable mattress he'd seen in months, beyond the fact that they'd returned late and she'd had knives and he had absolutely no idea how to cope if she had some kind of _emotional thing_ over her missing friends. Mai had woven her own web of deceit. She deserved to lie in it while _Zuko _had a comfortable evening. 

Unfortunately, a lady was still alady, even if she spread salacious falsehoods about you in order to foil your carefully planned counterespionage tactics. Zuko was well read enough to know whether there was any way around it. There wasn't. Fate had cornered him yet again.

No matter. This was a new day. Tension built as the sun started its climb – the possibility of flame longing for shape and contour – and Zuko was tired of waiting around. Respectable people started their day at dawn.

Zuko walked over to Mai's bedside and immediately felt strange about it. In the feeble pink light of morning she looked thin and girl-shaped and remarkably unlike someone hounding him to the ends of the earth. Sure, she was hugging a belt full of knives, but Zuko could appreciate the candor of the gesture. Who didn't like having a blade or two close at hand in an unfamiliar situation? Or in any situation, for that matter?

If half of Mai's daggers weren't suspiciously missing from their holder, Zuko might have forgotten to be wary. He spent a few moments staring at Mai, trying to figure out where her other projectiles might be, before giving it up as a lost cause. He'd pay attention to the way she moved for clues, later. 

"It's morning," Zuko announced, loudly and without preamble. 

Mai made a noise in the back of her throat and did some kind of weird girl-shift with her hips. Zuko re-evaluated the situation.

"I said, it's morning," he repeated.

Nothing.

Zuko never had this problem with Uncle. Before the injury he'd consistently gotten up with the sun. For a Firebender the sun's positioning was better than any internal clock. 

He swallowed the urge to find a stick with which to prod her. Zuko was no coward. The days of his weakness were long passed. 

To wit, he reached down shook her by the shoulder.

"You need to wake up."

The swordsman shifted sideways in time to feel something slice through the air a few inches away from his cheek. Last night she'd had better reaction time during their sorry excuse for a battle. Mai must still be drowsy. 

"Was that necessary?" Zuko groused, crossing his arms. He was already put-out about the futon situation and now there was a knife embedded in the wall behind where his head had been ten seconds ago. Oh, this just got better and better.

"You shouldn't startle me." Mai leveled a glare at Zuko from beneath her bangs. Then she snapped her attention over to the window.

"The sun's barely up," Mai grated. If possible, the glaring had gotten even worse. She looked as though she'd skewer Agni himself given half the chance. The dark circles under her eyes matched the bruises that mottled the pale skin of her arm. 

Feh. It wasn't Zuko's problem if Mai couldn't appreciate mornings. That was between her and the spirits. _He_ was alert and ready to take care of business on far less sleep than she must have gotten.

Mai closed her eyes, and settled back upon her pillow.

"I'm going back to sleep," she declared.

"No, you're not."

"Yes, I am."

"No, you're _not_," Zuko reiterated. He prodded her shoulder again for good measure. "Your little decoy will probably wake up when I blast out the lock on her door, and you're going to be there to calm her down."

Zuko refused to barge into some random peasant wench's room and make explanations. It was inappropriate. What if she was in a state of undress or conducting some kind of arcane backwater morning rituals? He wasn't exposing himself to potential hysterics or odd plebian tics if he didn't have to. Bad enough that they occasionally accosted with conversations about things he didn't care about while he and Uncle were going about their business. 

"You're what?" Mai blinked some of the grogginess out of her eyes. She held the belt of knives to her chest. It probably would have looked more threatening if she hadn't been so rumpled.

"I took precautions to keep you in there," Zuko elaborated. "She'll make a scene if she tries to leave and the door won't open. I'm blasting the lock out."

Mai sat up. Steel flickered into place against Zuko's side, and he repressed a shiver. She held her dagger in such a way that the edge bit lightly into his side. The metal was cold.

"It's five-thirty in the morning, Zuko."

"I'm aware of that." 

"Get out of the room."

"Excuse me?" Zuko discreetly shifted his weight so that Mai's dagger would glance off of his lower ribs if she tried to stab him. This latest instance of unprovoked feminine insanity proved that he couldn't take chances.

"_Get. Out_." 

Zuko chose to do his morning stretches in the hallway, while Mai accomplished whatever she needed to accomplish.

---

By the point that Mai emerged from the hotel room, time had dulled her urge to maim Zuko in such a way that he would never awaken anyone at five-thirty in the morning _ever again_. It had been supplanted by a feeling of grim satisfaction.

Mai had spent the better part of forty minutes re-tying her hair, buffing the chips out of her nails, and cutting her dress down into something that didn't look as though it had traveled through an avalanche. Then she took her sweet time affixing weapons on her person and in a discreet cache under the floorboards. The entire operation took far longer than it needed to.

Mai was patient. She knew that boredom could be far worse punishment than any physical injury.

Eventually the sounds of what must be Zuko's morning exercise routine had become increasingly forceful and erratic. That was when Mai knew she'd gotten what she wanted. When she finally opened the door she was greeted with the sight of Zuko pacing the halls and making faux bending motions at his shadow. Mai had seen a caged tiger-elk act like that, once, before Azula decided that she had tired of the palace menagerie and had all the creatures killed and replaced.

"I'm finished," Mai announced. Perhaps Zuko would protest the way she'd made him wait and then Mai would get to do something amusing that would get blood all over the disgusting ratty brown thing he insisted on wearing everywhere. If Mai was going to be thrown out of bed at spirits-forsaken hours of the morning and expected to function without the chemical aid of black tea, then she had to do _something_ bracing. She was itching for an excuse.

"Good." Zuko ceased whatever he was doing and prowled over to the door to Mai's room. "We have business to take care of."

Frustratingly, Zuko refused to take the bait. He was also right. 

"So?"

"Fine."

Their plan of action settled, Zuko pressed his palm against the tin lock he'd sabotaged the night before. Mai knocked politely on the door. 

"Lixue?"

Thankfully there was no answer. It would be hard to avoid suspicion if she saw any mysteriously melting metal. 

"Lixue, I need to speak with you." Mai raised her voice, double-checking. 

A few seconds passed in silence before Mai gave Zuko a curt nod. He made a strange twisting motion with his hand, and after a few moments what had once been a perfectly serviceable lock became a misshapen hunk of scrap metal.

"Your turn," the Prince murmured, stepping away from the door. When he passed her by Mai was startled to feel his knuckles brush against the heavy wool covering her forearm, casual and accidental and feather-light. A person as solid as Zuko didn't seem like he should be capable of such a thing. 

Then the surprise passed and Mai's eyes narrowed.

Was Zuko _checking her for weapons_?

Zuko gestured his impatience at the hold-up and Mai let the matter slide in the interests of not saying anything indiscreet where Lixue might hear them. The Prince might not have the sense to hold his tongue and in any case, if Mai were to be honest with herself, she had to admit that she no idea what she'd say if she were to call him on it. Mai hadn't made any secret of her willingness to draw concealed weapons on Zuko if necessary.

She turned the doorknob.

"I'll leave this to you," Zuko said quietly, manufacturing a retreat to more macho territory. Mai ignored him in favor of opening the door. With the racket they'd been making there was no way that Lixue wasn't awake by now.

"I apologize for-"

Mai's greeting perished on her lips. She had to tell herself very sternly that a Lady of the Fire Nation did not clap her hands to her mouth, or gag, or flee the room simply because she was engulfed in the sickly-sweet smell of congealed blood. Instead she took a deep breath to habituate herself to the stench and then stepped back out into the hallway. 

"Zuko," she called out, preempting his escape down the stairs. "There's a problem."

---

Glass crunched under the soles of Zuko's boots, ground down into a fine silicon dust. A stiff breeze chilled the room with the remnants of last night's cold air. Someone had smashed the window in from the outside.

It wasn't all they'd smashed.

Furniture was overturned and towels were strewn about haphazardly – some brown with dried blood. The mirror in the corner was shattered into fragments. Cushions had the stuffing ripped out of them. It wasn't an impressive show of violence, or even an impressive show of destruction, but it _was_ thorough. The soldier in Zuko had to admit that. 

Mai had climbed up onto a chair while Zuko took stock of their surroundings. An elaborate dagger protruded from the wall above Lixue's futon, right beside where it had been used to inelegantly scratch 'Hail Fire Lord Ozai' into the plaster. She braced herself against the wall, and pulled it out with an incongruously soft little huffing noise.

Once he was satisfied that no intruders were foolishly waiting to ambush them within the rubble, Zuko walked over to the peasant girl's abused body. This one had knives in bed with her as well, but _these _stilettos had been used to pin down the cloth straps that restrained her arms and legs. The peasant's shirt gaped open obscenely where the tri-flame symbol of the Fire Nation had been cut into her chest.

The immortal symbol of his nation reduced to sick corporeality by some honorless cur, weeping blood and jagged-edged sadism. _Disgusting_. Zuko had felt rage before, but nothing like this, and it took every reserve of willpower that he possessed to keep the white-hot fury from sparking out of his blood into the open air.

Zuko brushed the peasant's lank, sweaty hair away from the curve of her neck, and then pressed his fingertips into her clammy flesh. He couldn't prod this one awake. He could, however, check for vital signs.

"She's alive," Zuko told Mai, surprised to feel the faint flutter of a shallow heartbeat.

Mai padded over to the other side of the girl, carrying her newly liberated dagger.

"This is sick," she said. She knelt on the futon and set to work sawing off the gag in the girl's mouth. Her throwing knives wouldn't have been suited for it. 

Zuko backed off to give Mai space to work. 

"They wanted you."

Mai shook her head. 

"They wanted Toph Bei Fong."

"It's not honorable," Zuko said, forgetting how his sister and her friends used to mock him for using that word.

"It's not _professional_," Mai retorted, and the way she spoke, it sounded like a curse.

"Was this-"

"We're better than this."

Zuko knew she was right.

The gag came free. Mai removed it from the girl's mouth and tossed it into a corner. Then she set to work on freeing the girl's limbs with nimble strokes of her blade. Looming over the scene, Zuko felt overlarge and entirely useless. He went to fetch a jug of water in lieu of being able to do what he actually wanted to, which was find a mask and strap on his swords and unleash some righteous retribution on behalf of the land of his ancestors. Problems he could fight were problems he could solve.

When he returned to the room he righted a table to set the jug on. The peasant might need it if she woke. Mai had picked up a clean towel and was applying pressure to the wound on the peasant's chest.

"They made it too obvious. Unprofessional. This attack was for show," Mai said. She sounded even more detached than usual, as though she'd disconnected entirely from her surroundings. It was unnatural. He didn't like it. 

"A show of what? Depravity?"

"I don't know."

She should sound more affected, damn it all. She should sound as though this quagmire were happening to _her_. Zuko should not be alone in this room.

"It doesn't matter," he said bitterly. "We made the problem and I'm going to fix it. I've had enough."

Sneaking away in the night had been a good plan yesterday. It wasn't anymore. If he ran back to Uncle now Iroh would get that faraway look in his eye that told Zuko he was more disappointed than he would ever willingly say. Zuko hated that. 

"_You're_ going to fix it? Please. You're just as naïve as you always were." Mai's tone turned waspish. Her annoyance made Zuko feel better in a selfish way. At least she'd ceased acting like an automaton. "Complicated situations like this are beyond the influence of single person. You can't just charge in and _fix_ it."

"Why not? If I don't, who will?"

"This problem isn't ours to solve."

"Do you see the _Avatar_ coming to do it? These people, if they'd take matters into their own hands instead of waiting on _him_ then they'd be a lot better off." Zuko made a sharp gesture to emphasize his point. "I'm sick of headgames. I don't care if you want to go find your friends and then come back to hunt me. I'll fight my way across that bridge when I come to it, because I'm staying here. You're free to go do Azula's bidding."

Zuko ran out of steam at that point, but for once Mai had no snappy reply. She was staring at him so intently that he felt like she must be looking through him to some foreign horizon he couldn't see.

The swordsman _had _just called Mai a lackey. Which was of course what she was. 

"Please," the girl on the bed muttered in an unsteady voice, deflating the moment. "Y-you've got to-"

The peasant's speech dissolved into a coughing fit. Zuko was glad he brought that water.

"I didn't tell them anything about you, I promise," the girl said, sounding ridiculously proud for someone who looked so broken. "They said to give you a message. This was a message for the Avatar."

Mai took the jug from Zuko and held it to the peasant's lips. The peasant did not drink for long.

"There were three - one with knives, one who didn't speak, and the leader. She said..." The girl's eyes welled up with tears. She was no soldier. She must be overwhelmed. 

"Go on," Mai prompted her. "They're not here now." 

The peasant clutched at Mai's arms, white-knuckled.

"She said she was a Princess from the Fire Nation. She said that unless the Avatar saves us we're all going to die."

---

_Author's Note_: My goodness! I did not mean for this update to take so long. First I got caught up in writing a separate Avatar one-shot, and then I got caught up in life.


	6. Chapter 6

**Tinderbox – Part Six**

_Disclaimer: _Nickelodeon owns all the Avatar episodes heretofore professionally produced, and all other related trademarks. I have borrowed their toys to produce an amateur suspense thriller. If I start making a profit I'll let you all know before I get sued. Promise!

---

The tavern was abuzz with rumor.

Mai prodded sweet rice around her plate with the tips of her chopsticks. The porcelain was poor quality and her utensils were too thick. It appeared as though she was the only person in the establishment deemed sufficiently important to eat off of a plate that was not chipped. Her teacup was glazed a cheerfully pedestrian shade of light green. Somehow Mai found the inner strength to bear up under the luxury.

Zuko sat across from her, wolfing down a bowl of pork congee. The Prince's eating habits weren't sloppy, by any means, but the thorough attention he paid to mopping up every scrap of his porridge with crusts of bread spoke volumes about deprivation.

Waves of conversation ebbed and flowed all around them. Mai ignored the townsfolk's ramblings in spite of the fact that her better instincts told her this was a good opportunity to gather information.

Zuko and Mai had been the only people in Chiang Rai to see Lixue, before the inn proprietors were notified of the girl's condition and Sook Yin was called in to impose order. They were also the only people in Chiang Rai not discussing the attack.

Zuko paused in his methodical deconstruction of that morning's breakfast special, so Mai sipped her cup of tea. Point and counterpoint. The Prince would wait until she was finished before returning to his own repast. In this manner they could delay speaking to one another for as long as possible.

As far as Mai was concerned that was a perfectly workable system for dealing with things. No muss. No fuss. No tiresome speeches, misplaced words, or pointless histrionics.

Time had passed quickly as she tossed the scene of Lixue's torture for clues and weapons. It was not long until the girl's condition deteriorated enough that Zuko was forced to summon help.

When Sook Yin arrived, bare feet padding over the threshold to the inn's central lobby, the both of them were summarily dismissed. It was deemed necessary for Mai to 'recover from the ordeal', and for Zuko to go with her. They were set loose on the streets. That was the point where Mai ran out of things to do and started to feel lightheaded, like she'd ridden her komodo dragon-horse too far up one of the south peninsula mountains - surrounded by air but starved for oxygen. There was nothing left to fuel her mind but the thin and unsatisfying memory of what had happened that morning.

Zuko ate. Mai waited. Once he finished eating it was polite for her to stand up, so she did.

The roar of conversation broke around them. Their observers were eager for news.

Zuko looked up at her, arms crossed.

"I'm going," the assassin said, clear and toneless enough for the whole crowd to hear.

The Prince nodded, once, before gesturing for the barman to bring him another cup of tea. He did not indicate what he felt about Mai taking his offensive 'advice' to leave town and get out of the way. Sullen frown lines had set up camp on his features. She could not muster the necessary forces to drive them out.

Mai stepped out the door of the tavern. Frantic talk welled up behind her, but that was no longer a concern of hers.

If Zuko cared so much for this bloody mess and these rank peasants, then let _him _drown in their bleating.

---

Half of Mai's knives were still hidden away in Zuko's room. There was no way that she was leaving them behind when she skipped town. 

Getting into the inn was easy. The matrons who worked as Sook Yin's eyes and arms within the town bustled in and out of the building, but no one else dared enter for fear of disturbing the healers attending to Lixue. When Mai tried to walk through the small crowd standing vigil by the inn's porch, they parted for her. Sook Yin's women let her walk into the building unmolested, following her movements with weary eyes.

It was not so easy walking by Lixue's door without attracting Sook Yin's attention. Mai considered trying to pass without being heard, but she'd been observed entering the building, hadn't she? What would Sook Yin think if she found out later that Mai had passed unobserved? Only a very poor operative indeed would brazenly give away her stealth abilities to a civilian, no matter how far she was into the extraction process.

Mai walked down the hall, listening to the floorboards creak beneath her feet. Sure enough, the door to Lixue's room opened and out shuffled the mayoress. Her shadow fell across the length of the passageway. 

The assassin walked through it. Whatever Sook Yin wanted from the Bei Fongs, Mai wasn't in the mood to hear about it. 

"Hellodearie."

"Hello," she acknowledged the elderly woman. Sook Yin looked older now. Careworn. A large book was clutched in her withered old hands. 

"I apologize to your people for the acts committed in my name. I… have to leave," Mai continued. If Mai were a better lady she'd have had a flowery speech ready to make nice with Sook Yin, but she wasn't that good of a lady. Not really. Azula had always taken care of the classes that inconvenienced Mai and Ty Lee so that they could better focus on forging themselves into what the Princess needed. As far as Mai knew any suitors that dared approach their parents about an alliance with one of the Princess' confidantes had been summarily turned down. Dividing loyalties between the royal house and their own families would not be permitted. 

"You're fleeing to safety? Or to find the Avatar? It is not a pleasant time to travel."

Mai looked past the old woman without answering. She'd been through this song and dance countless times before. Fire Nation military commanders often erroneously thought that they could gain information on Azula's plans through her two handmaidens. Weapons did not wield themselves, nor did they speak out of turn.

"I see," the old woman said. She reached forward to pat Mai on the shoulder. Having lived with Ty Lee for several years without snapping and committing homicide, Mai was prepared to bear the friendly gesture with stoicism.

"I'm sure you're doing what is for the best, Miss Bei Fong," Sook Yin flattered Mai, a twinkle in her eye, like it was an inside joke just between the two of them. "I wanted to speak with you more at length, without the other old biddies crowding around us, but if the spirits don't will it then there's nothing to be done. I can only leave you with one piece of advice."

Sook Yin withdrew her hand. Mai exhaled with relief. 

"Yes?"

"You shouldn't get too attached to your young man, dearie."

Mai blinked. She'd anticipated a different platitude. Chiang Rai was in such turmoil that there was no logical reason for Sook Yin to want to talk about _Zuko_ rather than the Avatar.

"I don't know what you mean."

"I was your age once. My father went to war when I was still a child, but my brothers did not follow until I was old enough to remember them. None returned," Sook Yin shifted so that she could better support the weight of the volume she was carrying. Now that Mai's attention was drawn towards it, she noticed that it was not a book at all, but a collection of posters and clippings pressed within an empty binding.

Mai had a bad feeling about that. Sook Yin could have left the book in Lixue's room. Why was she bothering to carry it around? What was she trying to prove? 

"Sons and lovers don't last," Sook Yin continued. Her eyes bore into Mai, as though she could see right under the coat Mai was wearing, straight down to the steel. Sook Yin was thin – bony, even – but the pits and whorls in her dark skin made it look like the years had eroded her from bedrock. Her life would be at an end soon but she somehow made herself look timeless. Sook Yin had been managing this town since before Mai's mother was born. "You can cry for the men all you want, clutch them to your breast and whisper their names in prayer to the spirits. It doesn't matter. They'll leave you because they love you and the Fire Nation will take them like they take everything." "It's not like that," Mai muttered. What else was she supposed to say? Wars happened. That was the way the planet turned. She wasn't like these Earth Kingdom women who had nothing better to do than _survive_. The Fire Nation was more civilized than this barbarian Kingdom – it gave its daughters the chance to fight in their own way.

"I'm glad," Sook Yin smiled, her warmth disturbing Mai in ways that she was unable to articulate. At least Azula's smiles were always patently and predictably false.

"We remain, dearie. Let them go. We will _always_ remain."

Sook Yin stepped back into the room and Mai recognized that she had been dismissed. She did not waste any time retrieving her things. It was far past time for her to leave confusion behind her and put her life back to what passed for normal.

---

Mai's feet hurt. They had started to blister after six or so hours of walking, the thin cloth of her slippers rubbing against her skin in distinctly uncomfortable ways, so Mai abandoned propriety and threw her footwear into the bushes. The foolish action only left her all the more vulnerable to the various nettles, sharp rocks, and splinters that littered the forest paths.

And that was only the beginning of Mai's problems. She hadn't visited the town bathhouse before departure and it showed in the way that her hair snarled and tangled, catching on the occasional branchHer spine was twisted from having slept the night in a tree. Insect bites trailed along her ankles. A thin layer of sweat coated her skin unpleasantly, and she could taste the grit between her teeth.

In the Fire Nation, no decent person ventured out of populated enclaves and into the jungle unless they were part of an organized hunting, construction, or resource-extraction party. Leaving civilization wasn't worthwhile unless you had an attainable goal to achieve. The risk of being eaten by something large, vicious, or poisonous was simply too great. Not so in the Earth Kingdom. Their peaceful, picturesque woods lured the unwary into ceaseless discomfort.

Mai considered leaning against a thick tree-trunk, and taking a break, but she knew that it would do more harm than good. Five minutes would turn to ten, then fifteen and twenty, without Ty Lee there to harass her into action.

Trees towered over her, row upon row, standing sentry over her loneliness. It should have been a relief to be alone for the first time in months. Instead Mai had to dig her nails into her palm to keep herself from chipping at them in frustration, as she had when she was very young, hiding among the garden topiaries and waiting for something interesting to happen.

She had been following the trail of an Earth Kingdom platoon for quite some time now. They weren't truly her concern, but she had no other path to follow, and there was always the off chance that they might lead her back to the more familiar world of Azula and Ty Lee and their interminable hunt. 

Here, at least, Mai had her pride. There were no mysteries waiting in the wings and there was no Zuko to make outrageous charges about her life when he had _no_ idea what it was like to live as she did.

The noblewoman frowned with distaste, seeing that she would have to traverse a log covered with beetles in order to continue her journey. Ah, yes, such a _proud _aristocrat she was, slogging through the muck. She'd allowed the Prince to offend her instead of keeping her own counsel, allowed events to affect her instead of remaining rationally detached, and what happened? She'd ended up on a mad wild goose chase. Three cheers and brava for the Academy's finest.

Mai frowned with disgust at her lack of self-control. The beetles on the log were _looking_ at her with their tiny insect eyes, challenging her to cease this foolishness at once and go back to… nothing.

Unacceptable.

Mai mentally prepared to swallow her aversion and step on the dirty little creatures.

Then she heard the laughter.

Hope blossomed and then wilted in the half-second that it took Mai to realize that no, she had not heard Ty Lee. 

She had, however, heard a _girl_. 

Mai immediately whipped a knife out from one of her calf holsters and stabbed it into the nearest sturdy-looking tree. She jumped up onto the blade's handle, and used the improvised step as a means to vault herself into the treetops. She kicked the wooden knife-handle down with her heel, on the second leap, so that it would be pushed flat against the tree-trunk for camouflage. 

Deftly, Mai made her way through the canopy, making sure to pass from branch to branch only when the breeze picked up loudly enough to cover the sound of her movements. Soon enough she located her quarry – three young ladies with ostrich horses, riding through the forest at a leisurely pace.

Mai raised a hand to shield her eyes from the sun, trying to take in as much as she could about the group before they moved on. Her initial evaluation proved inaccurate upon close inspection. Those were two girls and one very effeminate boy. Mai would never have been able to discerned the long-haired teenager's true gender if it weren't for the way that he held his hips when he rode.

Tsk. Sloppy work on his part.

"You say that General Fong hasn't found any of them?"

"All three escaped! Daddy's been _terribly_ fretful about it, too, but you must not fear. Anyone silly enough to make as much noise in the earth as _they _did with that awful train thingy can't go far without being caught."

The talkative one clapped her hands, happily, just as the group moved out of easy hearing range. Knowing that she couldn't keep up in this state, Mai made no attempt to follow. 

All three escaped. General Fong.

Which meant…

Azula and Ty Lee were free, they knew where they'd left her, and they had not come to find her. She was expendable. They could be anywhere by now.

Mai slumped. 

She wanted to go home.

The tank had exploded, so Chiang Rai would have to do.

---

After cleaning herself up there had been nothing for Mai to do but make herself scarce, or entertain the villagers' queries as to whether she'd met with the Avatar. Mai chose the former.

Zuko tracked her down as night fell. Mai didn't hear him approach until it was too late for forethought and the air displaced by his passing brushed up against her back. She cursed herself for her inattentiveness; for the way her breath hitched when she realized that something had succeeding in surprising her. 

The Prince sat down beside Mai unceremoniously. Their legs dangled over the edge of the town wall.

"You're back," Zuko stated, in lieu of any proper greeting.

He could have been relieved, or it could have been a trick of the light.

"Rumor would suggest."

Mai wondered if Zuko had kept her waiting on purpose, since he surely must have been informed of her return hours ago. Zuko wouldn't say and Mai didn't care to ask. Sook Yin hadn't driven him out or barred her entry. The town square held many more refugee tents than it had three days ago, but there was probably a good explanation for that. Questions could wait. 

Together, they stared out at the sunset.

The quiet afforded Mai the vain hope that perhaps this, too, could be handled without having to talk about it. The dusk was mild. The bustle of the village behind them was pleasant insofar as she could sit above the fray. There was no need to disturb her peace. Mai would rather stab herself with her own knives than talk about something as tedious as her _feelings_ about her trip beyond the barricades.

Mai got her wish – Zuko did not break the silence – but he put their moment to the sword all the same when he reached over her lap, grabbed her left wrist, and tugged it over to where he could get a better look at it.

"What-"

"You're back. I can't watch over my shoulder for knives from you all the time," Zuko shrugged, slightly, and Mai felt the aftershocks of motion where the palm of his hand shifted against her sleeve. Mai experimentally tried to tug her arm out of his grasp. She only succeeded in causing Zuko to deftly slide his grip upwards so that he was grasping the back of her bare hand. His hold became all the more secure without slippery, scratchy wool to get in the way. 

"So I want to know what you've got up your sleeves," he explained. "That's all."

Ah. Like before, in the hallway.

"Now my reputation is ruined for the market," Mai said, looking back over her shoulder to survey the peasants scurrying around. The sarcasm fell short of her usual standards.

At home not even a Prince would have dared to run the pad of his thumb across the thin skin over the pulse-point at her wrist. Not without a scandal or a contract. 

Mai reminded herself that she still had had one arm free and should really beonsidering stabbing Zuko at this point, even if he'd left before he could be taught such niceties and perhaps did not know any better.

"Exiles aren't meant to worry about honor."

"I'm not an exile," Mai pointed out, with an inexcusable lack of violence. Maybe… maybe if Mai trusted him to know what armaments were strapped to this one arm, they could finally stop talking circles around the idea that she might attack him.

Even though she technically should. 

"I thought you cared about being professional, not honorable," Zuko grumped, affronted. Mai could tell by the way the Prince stiffened that he didn't like what she could be implying about his intentions, jest or no jest. He tensed and his fingers pressed almost painfully into her flesh. "And I'm not a degenerate. You're the one who spread that rumor around." 

Mai tilted her head, not saying anything, waiting for him to calm down. Zuko's scar was etched livid red against the contours of his skull, curling cruelly upward like the crimson scowl marks they painted on the faces of kabuki villains. The rest of his face was as fair as though it had been dusted with rice powder. 

It was an… interesting effect. 

"No spring-holsters," Zuko commented, using his spare hand to slowly slide her sleeve down the length of her arm. Inch-by-inch, the homespun cloth retracted to reveal the intricate pattern of ties she'd improvised from the nest of hair ribbons that one of the town matrons had given her. Beggars could not be choosers, yet Mai was not used to begging, and she almost regretted that a fellow aficionado had to see such an amateurish setup. 

Well, at least this way Mai's real secrets were still hers to keep.

The ribbons crisscrossed haphazardly over her forearm, swaths of bright color that made her skin look dull and ghostly. 

The Prince wasn't letting go of Mai's wrist. 

"No."

Lack of spring holsters cut down her reaction time, Mai knew, and now she knew that Zuko also knew. So now they were both aware. Of things. 

Right.

That was according to plan. 

Finally the material of Mai's coat pooled at her elbow, her forearm exposed to the cooling air. Zuko used his grip on her wrist to tilt her hand back so that her inner arm turned towards the setting sunlight. 

The light was pink, but her skin was bone-white, and the tracery of veins beneath it hinted at a steely blue. Only a few cleverly-laced scraps of satin kept them from nicking into her skin. 

Mai thought that would be the end of it.

Yet there they sat. 

"Did you get these from Sun Wai? I thought he specialized in jian swords," the Prince murmured. The knives flashed silver when angled just-so.

Mai felt uncharacteristically embarrassed. Usually she carried more weapons. Ribbons were infantile. Scrutiny was foreign to her life and it unnerved her. 

"They're ten-fold high-carbon steel, out of Dafen."

"There's no master forge in Dafen," Zuko objected. Half his brow furrowed, while the other remained paralyzed in its permanent glare.

"There is now," Mai said. "Ryu Chu's second apprentice set up near the industrial zone."

"No pommel detailing."

Zuko ran his index finger over the edge of one of the knives, testing it for sharpness. His hands were larger than Mai's, less nimble, and it wasn't really a surprise that he ended up drawing a line down her skin at the same time. His touch jarred the weapons slightly askew in their bindings, pressing metal to flesh, and the contrast in temperature between cold steel and Zuko's callused skin was… unexpected.

"No. They're throwing knives. I throw them away."

"But they're nice," Zuko countered with a happy little smile.

Mai shifted her weight with a distinct lack of grace. Tension knotted in her gut and she wasn't sure she liked it. The noblewoman flexed the fingers of her trapped hand, experimentally.

Zuko immediately dropped her arm, straightened his posture, and looked back and forth as though he expected a dire enemy to have tunneled under the gates and insinuated itself within the village within the last five minutes.

"Uh, thank you," the Prince cleared his throat. "We can talk later. I should go check outside on-"

"Sook Yin might know something about you," Mai blurted out before Zuko could leave. 

"What?"

"She was carrying posters, maybe. She made strange promises. Or threats. And that General Fong-"

Zuko did not seem to feel the need to mull that over. 

"Fine."

Mai yanked her jacket back down so that the sleeve hid all but the tips of her fingers, like it was _supposed_ to.

"Yes. _Delightful_, even," Mai drawled, before she realized Zuko was genuinely serious.

"There are things I want to accomplish. I don't have anything to lose," Zuko told Mai, before sliding himself off the parapet. He fell to the ground with a soft grunt, stirring up a cloud of dust and ash. Once the Prince regained his footing he disappeared off into the tree line. He did not wait to see if she would follow.

Mai felt hollow beneath the thick wool of her robes. For the first time in forever there was nobody around in a position to evaluate her dutifulness. Mai's good name would not be marred no matter what she did. Nothing held her down, she was free in every way, and it seemed as though the wind spirits would come and bear her away into the great beyond if she dared loose the weight of steel strapped to her body.

All her life, Mai had not decided. She had not _chosen_. Her destiny was scripted on the day she was born and she was smart enough to read between the lines and play her part. The colors of the world were hers to absorb so long as she did not do anything so foolish as try to touch them. Existence was comfortable once you figured out the trick of it; once you learned to discern when the ambitions of the royal house would ebb and swell and buffet unwary fellow travelers.

The Prince should have had that life too. Mai remembered Zuko the way that he used to be, too childlike for their childhood, when she'd watched him for hours trying to figure out if he _really_ believed that the court was supposed to be some hallowed and honorable place or if he was only pretending to cover the tarnish on the thrones. He could have stayed that way. His mother might not have been able to protect him, but the rules always would have, if only he'd bothered to learn his place in the universe.

It would have been nice. Zuko had always been nice. 

But instead her silly childhood crush had gone and become this… this… _exasperating person_ who ignored reason and sense and comfort and everything else in order to blunder being whoever he wanted, living by the rules that best pleased him. As though it were_ easy_. As though the world could _work_ that way. As though being like that wouldn't get him _killed_.

It was madness! Utter madness!

And Mai, she…

She didn't know what she was supposed to do.

"You're wrong," Mai finally said. 

No one ever heard her.

---

Author's Notes: Next chapter fight scenes!

… yeah, I got nothing. Updates have slowed down because the school term's started for me. Them's the breaks. Sorry folks.

Especial thanks to my beta Rawles for her help on this chapter, which caused me an unusual amount of grief.


End file.
